A Time for Every Season
by Amalynn John
Summary: A series of vignettes that takes place after the events of Grady that showcase the progression of Daryl and Carol's relationship told from Carol's perspective. (If not a fan of romantic Caryl, you may want to avoid).
1. A Time to Mourn

**Apologies to my OQ friends. This is not an OQ story, I promise Fractured Hearts is next!**

**I started watching The Walking Dead a couple months ago and finished every episode in three weeks. I fell in love with Carol and Daryl, together and individually. I thought I would try my hand at writing fanfiction for them, broaden my horizons and stretch myself to write new voices. I'm still learning but I hope I have captured the voices of Carol and Daryl somewhat.**

**This is unbeta'ed, and a bit of a stream of consciousness type thing. Forgive me my mistakes!**

**I only rated this T, but there is some language in it. I figure that if AMC allowed it, Daryl would swear quite a bit more!**

**I don't own anything related to The Walking Dead, so please don't sue.**

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><p><em>There is a time for everything,<em>

_and a season for every activity under the heavens:_

_a time to be born and a time to die,_

_a time to plant and a time to uproot,_

_a time to kill and a time to heal,_

_a time to tear down and a time to build,_

_a time to weep and a time to laugh,_

_a time to mourn and a time to dance,_

_a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,_

_a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,_

_a time to search and a time to give up,_

_a time to keep and a time to throw away,_

_a time to tear and a time to mend,_

_a time to be silent and a time to speak,_

_a time to love and a time to hate,_

_a time for war and a time for peace_

_ -Ecclesiastes 3:1-8_

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><p><em><strong>A Time to Mourn<strong>_

Carol sat in the back of the box truck wedged between pillows and blankets that the group had scrounged together, despite her protests that it was not necessary.

She leaned her head back against the wall of the truck, her movement sending a severe ache down her left side causing her to wince. The pain medication they had given her at Grady was starting to wear off.

"Mind if I take a look," Sasha asked, leaning over her, concern evident in her features.

Carol nodded her head in consent, lifting her shirt, exposing her black and blued side. Sasha's fingers gently poked the bruises and a sharp pain jolted through her rib cage making her hiss.

"Sorry," Sasha quietly mumbled, her hand giving Carol's a quick squeeze before pulling away.

"The people at Grady gave us some codeine to help with the pain," she said, searching through the duffel bag, humming in victory when she found the bottle.

"No," Carol shook her head, "I'm fine," she insisted. She needed to be alert, ready to fight if need be. She was already weak because of her injuries, once again a liability to the group and taking the codeine would only serve to render her even more useless. "We need to keep it in case someone else needs it, in case – of the worst," she trailed off.

"Carol," Tyreese's deep baritone made her look up, "Twenty-four hours ago you were in a coma, _you_ need these," he gestured to the pill bottle.

"I'm fine," she repeated, trying to sound convincing. She needed to remain alert, she needed to be able to protect the others if a dire situation arose.

Sasha sighed softly, "At least try to sleep then."

Carol nodded and closed her eyes, the desire to shut the pain out was overwhelming, but she knew sleep wouldn't come. There were too many unwanted images that haunted her when her eyelids came to rest. Karen and David, Mika, Lizzie, Sophia – She squeezed her eyes tighter, attempting to clear her brain of the painful memories. Sounds of a gunshot echoing, of blood spattering and of Beth falling to the ground invaded her thoughts. Dead. Beth was dead. A new nightmare to add to the never ending cycle. She swallowed back a sob but was unable to stop the one tear that escaped. She had been right, they really couldn't save anyone anymore.

The group had not been given much time to mourn. The threat from Dawn's group had still been a strong possibility and they were forced to continue on their way. Maggie had clung to her sister, the young woman's sobs had torn at Carol's heart. It had taken Glenn, Rick and Daryl to pull her from Beth and get her off the ground into the other van that they had found. Beth's death was difficult for them all but it had hit Maggie and Daryl particularly hard. Hearing Daryl's anguished sob back in the hospital was not something Carol wanted her thoughts to linger on. He wasn't one to display his emotions very often but when he did the result was heartbreaking.

The back door of the truck opened abruptly causing Carol to jump. Her eyes landed on Daryl and she watched as he climbed in. She was surprised to see him, had figured that he would remain in the vehicle that carried Beth, keep guard over her until she was laid to rest. She knew he felt responsible for the young girl, yet here he was.

His face was pale and his eyes red , he looked worn,empty, and she felt a fresh wave of sadness wash over her at the devastation that lingered in his eyes. He closed the door quickly, making sure it was secure before his hand banged the wall. The engine immediately roared to life and they all jolted as the truck moved forward.

He made his way towards her, his eyes scanning her body rapidly, his brow furrowed in worry.

"I'm fine," she once again tried to reassure.

His eyes flicked to hers and he grunted, a sound that made it clear that he didn't believe her.

His head turned to Sasha, seeking a second opinion from the closest person they had to a medic. Her eyes darted briefly to Carol before answering Daryl's unasked question.

"She should take the codeine," she advised,shaking the pill bottle, "It will help her rest more comfortably. She needs to rest."

Carol frowned, "I don't need to take anything, I'm fi-"

"Take the damn pills," his voice was gruff, grouchy and irritated to the untrained ear, but the slight quiver in his tone and the pleading, desperate look he shot her told a different story. Their gazes remained locked for a few moments, various emotions passed through Daryl's eyes, emotions that mirrored the turmoil that was flickering through her heart.

She reached out a hand towards Sasha, relenting, "One." She needed to maintain some control over this situation, but with Daryl here she felt more at ease, she knew the others would be protected if they ran into trouble on the road.

Daryl had a canteen at the ready, she took it from him, swallowing the pill in one fluid motion.

"Sleep," he said, his voice just above a whisper, his hand holding hers a beat longer than necessary as she handed back the water.

She nodded, closing her eyes and leaning back against the wall. The last thing she remembered was feeling Daryl's shoulder bumping hers as he settled in next to her.

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><p>"Carol."<p>

"Carol."

She could hear her name being called amidst the fog, it was distant and muffled but she knew it was calling her name, knew it was a voice that made her want to reach out and cling to it and never let go.

"Carol." It was closer now.

Her eyes fluttered open and she squinted needing to grow accustomed to the light. It was still, there was no roar of the engine, no movement from the others that had been in the back of the truck. She took a deep breath as things began to become more focused. The earthy scent of dirt and pine invaded her senses. _Daryl._

Fully awake, she tilted her head, her gaze met piercing blue eyes. At some point her head had fallen on his shoulder, the realization made her pull back, startled.

"Easy," he drawled, gently grasping her elbow.

She blinked her eyes, still disoriented. "Where is everyone?"

"At the r'sort," he explained, his eyes shifting downward.

"Oh," she whispered.

Maggie had wanted to bury Beth at a hiking resort located 3 hours outside of Atlanta. It was a place where they had vacationed several times as children and had been a favourite of Beth's, a place where the Greene family had many happy memories.

"Y'alright?" Daryl's voice broke through her thoughts.

"Yeah," she breathed, shaking her head to clear it, she turned to look at Daryl, "I'm OK."

He stared at her, his eyes narrowing.

She sighed softly, "I have five fractured ribs – I'm sore Daryl – but it's getting better – I promise." If only the emotional scars would be able to heal as easily.

He regarded her for a moment longer, searching, and finally he nodded, the movement quick and sharp.

"Building's clear. Come on," he gripped her arm more firmly, assisting her to to her feet. Every bone in her body protested and she winced when pain pulsated in her abdomen. Daryl put his arm around her, shouldering her weight. When they reached the door, he jumped out of the truck and extended out his arms.

She paused, staring down at him, there was something in his look, in the way he contemplated her, that had her heart rate increasing. It was a feeling she experienced occasionally in his presence, a feeling that was often foreign to her and stupid for her to even dwell on, especially at a time like this.

"Carol, you OK?" Carl came into view, a rifle hanging off his shoulder, his expression concerned.

Her head snapped towards him, "Yes," she was quick to reassure, "I'm – I'm fine Carl."

She stepped down into Daryl's arms, his hands rested on her waist, gently maneuvering her to the ground doing his best to avoid her ribs. She ignored the heat rising up her neck and kept her gaze on anything but the man in front of her.

She stumbled slightly when she was finally on the ground, her legs still numb from disuse, both Daryl and Carl grabbed an elbow, steadying her.

Her hand reached out to tap the brim of Carl's hat offering him a small smile of gratitude before the three of them began to make their way towards the resort.

"Carol?" Carl's voice broke the silence.

She glanced over at him, humming in acknowledgement.

"I'm really glad you're OK," he said.

She felt tears threatened at his confession but cleared her throat warding them off. She smiled at him not trusting herself to speak.

"You were like a warrior or something, getting us all out of Terminus," he said, his eyes full of awe. "And you kept Judith safe – I never did thank you for that. Thank you."

"Tyresse -" she began, trying to downplay any role she had in Judith's safe return. It _had_ been Tyreese who saved her from the prison.

Carl wasn't having any of it, "No," he interrupted, "Thank _you_."

Before she could respond, Carl continued, "We need to learn to say the important things to people right away. There might not be a tomorrow. You'd think we'd know that by now, wouldn't you?" He offered her a small, sad smile before turning to look forward once more.

His words hit a little too close to home and she chanced a glance at Daryl. Her eyes widened when she found him watching her. Their gaze held and soon she found it difficult to breath. She broke eye contact, glancing down to the ground and focused on getting her breathing back under control.

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><p>They had buried Beth that afternoon, Father Gabriel proceeded over the small funeral making Beth's death seem more real, more final than all the others, if that even made sense. Maggie had stood stoic, staring off into space, the ever present fire that burned in her eyes, extinguished. It had crushed Carol seeing Maggie like that, it was a feeling she knew all too well herself.<p>

Daryl had stood beside her, unable to stay still, constantly moving his feet and fidgeting. She knew he had wanted to escape, desperate to mourn on his own and away from prying eyes. After Maggie had laid a rose on Beth's grave and Father Gabriel had said the final prayer, Daryl had fled into the woods, mumbling something about going hunting. Carol had watched him retreat, unable to follow because of her injuries, but she knew he needed the time alone.

It was now well into the evening and Daryl had still not arrived back at the resort. Anxiousness rolled in the pit of her stomach. She hated when Daryl was out more than a couple of hours, but in the state he had been in – it had her nerves even more on edge.

She sat on the sofa along with Sasha and that kid from the hospital, Noah. Aside from Daryl, the only ones missing from the group assembled in the main sitting room were Maggie, Glenn, Tara, and Rosita. Her knee bounced nervously while she listened to the others discuss their options for the future. Rick was knelt on the floor, a map laid on the small table, scouring for safer locales for them all to stay.

"If we travel north," his finger traveled along the map, "we could make our way to Virginia in a few days."

The creak of the door opening caused everyone to turn their head. Daryl entered, his crossbow slung across his back. Carol sighed in relief, the tension easing somewhat from her shoulders.

"What's goin' on?" Daryl drawled, his gaze drifting over everyone and finally resting on the map.

"Just discussing where to head to next," Rick answered, "Noah's from Richmond – thought we'd go with him and decide what to do then. Washington might not be the cure we were hoping for but it's still the nation's capitol, it has to be well protected I figure."

Daryl nodded, setting his crossbow against the fire place before leaning over to look at the map.

"About a five hour drive to Virginia or fifteen days walk, give or take a few days. Figure we'll drive as much as we can," Rick continued. "What do you think?"

Daryl rubbed his chin, deep in thought, "Good as plan as any," he mumbled.

"OK," Rick stood, "We'll leave first thing in the morning."

Carol groaned inwardly, not relishing the thought of setting out so soon. Her body was slowly improving but a couple more days of rest would have gone a long way in the healing process. Staying a couple more days would have also offered Maggie, Daryl, and all of them time to grieve in peace, well, in as much peace as they would receive in this world they now lived.

"'Scuse me?" Daryl muttered, "In the mornin'?" Carol's head snapped up at the anger laced in his tone.

"We have least enough food for four days, a pond out back. How 'bout we rest for more than one damn day?"

Rick watched Daryl for a moment, his brow furrowed, "We need to keep moving," he said, slowly. "Those people – from Grady – if they're tracking us...we're sitting ducks staying here."

"They ain't comin' after us," Daryl said, his tone firm, confident in his statement.

"Daryl's right man," Noah intervened, "with Dawn no longer in charge. They won't be coming after us. They have no reason to."

Rick shook his head, "A lot of you thought we were safe once we escaped from Terminus, and look what happened there."

"That ain't the same," Daryl said.

"That isn't a hunch I'm willing to place my family's lives on," Rick grabbed the map off the table folding it, clearly done with discussing the issue any further.

"Your family," Daryl scoffed, his eyes igniting with a fresh anger, "Always 'bout you an' yours."

Rick turned to face Daryl, his eyes narrowing, "What the hell does that mean?"

"Means you don't give two shits 'bout the rest of us, our families."

Rick's eyes squinted, seemingly confused by Daryl's accusation, "You know that isn't true. Movin' on is what's best for the entire group."

Daryl shot forward aggressively towards Rick causing both Abraham and Tyresse to move in ready to intervene if necessary, "Maggie's mournin' an' needs time to get her shit together – we all do an' Carol -" Daryl's voice cracked with emotion on her name which made tears spring unexpected to her eyes, "Carol was hit by a fuckin' car five days ago. We can wait least two more god-damn days."

Carol moved to sit on the edge of the sofa, she couldn't remember the last time she had seen Daryl this upset, especially with Rick.

"I'll be alright Daryl," she reassured, trying to ease some of the tension that had filled the room.

"No!" Daryl growled, not even turning to address her, his hard gaze remained locked on Rick. "If _Rick _wants to leave – fine, we're stayin'."

The men stood staring at one another, neither backing down. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, it was Rick who finally gave in, "Anyone else have any opinions?" he asked, his eyes flicking around the room.

It was quiet for a moment, each individual weighing their options, not wanting to set either man off. Eventually the majority agreed with Daryl, stay a couple more nights and then move on.

Rick nodded his head, relenting, "Two days and then we head out," he growled, he did not seem pleased with the decision. He turned toward Michonne, his arms reaching out to take Judith.

Carol observed Daryl carefully, his hands were balled into fists and his jaw was clenched, anger still radiated off of him. She could tell there was still something bothering him, that this had been about so much more than just being against Rick's decision to leave the resort right away.

"Three hostages," he muttered.

Rick's arms dropped back to his side and he turned to face Daryl once again. "Excuse me?"

"We had three hostages an' then y'had to go all Rambo on that guys ass."

Rick stepped forward, "That _guy_ knocked Sasha unconscious and was headed to warn the others at Grady. He would have ruined our chances of getting Carol and Beth out of there."

"He didn't make it though, y'had him, it could've been an even trade."

"You blaming me for what happened to Beth?" Rick asked, his tone dark, hurt.

Daryl stepped towards him and Carol could see Abraham and Tyreese once again moving in. Everyone watched wide-eyed, surprised by this animosity between the two men. Carol's heart hammered in her chest seeing Daryl like this, a wild animal lashing out. It had been a long time since he behaved in this manner. She longed to reach out to him, to calm him, but felt useless in that moment.

"What happened at the hospital was a tragedy, unforeseen by us all. It was no one's fault," Sasha said, doing her best to ease the tension.

"It's been a long day," Abraham said, reaching out and gripping Rick by the shoulder, "we should all get some rest."

Rick wasn't ready to end it, he jerked away from Abraham, "If we had gone in like I had planned-"

"With guns a blazin'?" Daryl cut in, his voice raising. "That could have gotten 'em _both_ killed. Like I said, y'don't give two shits 'bout anyone but your own." Daryl turned away from Rick, shaking his head.

"I cared about Beth," Rick's voice hitched, his emotion over her death evident. He took a deep breath before continuing, "I care about Carol."

Daryl snapped at that, storming towards Rick. He grabbed the lapels of his shirt, roughly pulling him towards his face. "The hell yo do!" Daryl snarled.

Tyreese grabbed a hold of Daryl's arms and pulled him off the sheriff. Daryl struggled but was unable to escape Tyreese's grip. He pointed his finger at Rick, jabbing the air forcefully, "You left her out there all 'lone to fend for herself," he cried.

Carol softly gasped, some of the others looked confused not sure what Daryl was talking about, but she could tell by the look of guilt that flashed in Rick's eyes that he knew exactly to what Daryl was referring, her banishment from the prison.

Daryl stood staring at Rick, his breath heavy. He then glanced over to her making brief eye contact before his eyes darted to the floor, she could tell he hadn't meant to say what he did out loud. He pushed Tyresse off of him and quickly made his way to his crossbow, grabbed it and left, the door slamming behind him.

"What the hell was that about?" Abraham questioned to no one in particular.

Carol grabbed the edge of the sofa and pushed herself up. Rick's gaze settled on her as she limped toward him. When she went to pass him, her hand momentarily rested on his arm. It was a gesture to show him that what he had done to her was a thing of the past. It was not something she would be able to forget but it was something that she had forgiven. It would be hypocritical of her to hold a grudge when she had received forgiveness from Tyresse for all of her wrongdoings. His hand came up to cover hers, squeezing it before letting go, gratitude in his eyes. She ignored the stares of the others as she slowly followed after Daryl.

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><p>She stepped out on the porch, relief washing over her when she spotted Daryl's silhouette sitting on the steps, she had been concerned that he might have taken off to the comfort of the woods once more.<p>

She pulled her blouse tighter around her attempting to ward off the slight chill that evening had brought. The stairs creaked under her weight giving away her presence but Daryl still continued to look out over the dark landscape. Carol could just make out the forms of Rosita and Tara by the treeline where they sat on watch.

"You should be restin'," he said.

"I needed some fresh air. Mind if I sit?"

He let out a soft grunt, Dixon speak for 'do whatever the hell you want'. She moved to sit but her body protested, her bones stiff and still painful.

"Can you give me a hand?" she asked quietly. Daryl was on his feet in an instant, his expression a mixture of worry and guilt.

"Sorry," he mumbled, his hand gripping her elbow as he helped lower her to a sitting position before sitting back down himself.

They sat in silence for awhile, their arms occasionally brushing. There were so many things unspoken between them and Carol didn't know even where to begin.

It was Daryl who spoke first, "Maggie couldn't even look at me today."

Carol turned to look at him, her heart breaking at how lost he looked.

"Maggie is mourning. She just lost Hershel and now Beth."

"Beth was my responsibility. I shouldn't've taken my eyes off of her, shouldn't've went to feed that damn dog." He shook his head, "There were so many god damn walkers -"

"This isn't your fault," she told him, her voice soft but firm.

Daryl sighed in frustration, "She never gave up fuckin' hope. I was such a bastard to her, had givin' up, but she just kept –," he sighed again, "God, life ain't fuckin' fair – takin' both Beth an' Sophia."

Her breath hitched at the sound of her baby's name.

"Must be fuckin' cursed," Daryl mumbled.

Carol grabbed his arm, pulling it, forcing him to look at her, "No. What happened to Beth, to – Sophia, that isn't on you. You did more for those girls-," she paused, tears filling her eyes as memories of an endless search, of a barn, and of her little girl, overwhelmed her. She gave her head a little shake before continuing, "It's like you said, life isn't fucking fair."

It was true, this world was a fucked up place and it always seemed to take everyone and thing that was truly good away from them.

"It should've been me."

She realized she must have have spoken her thought out loud when Daryl's head snapped up and turned to look at her, his eyes slightly crazed, "No!" he growled. "Don't say shit things like that, don't even think 'em."

"The things I've had to do," she whispered glancing down avoiding his eye contact, "I don't deserve-"

"Don't," he hissed, pained. "We've all done things." He lowered his chin to catch her eye, urging her to look at him once more, "You're the strongest person I know."

She shook her head, willing herself not to cry. She wasn't strong, it felt like at any moment she would fall apart, break into a million different pieces.

"I – I can't lose you too," he said, his tone soft and gruff with emotion.

Her breath caught in her throat at his words and her pulse quickened from the way he looked at her, from the pure need for her that poured out of him and she knew she couldn't unload her burdens on him tonight.

His bottom lip trembled, and he chewed on the inside of his cheek. Her hand itched to touch him, to not only offer him comfort but to receive comfort in return. She was unsure of how he would react to her touch. Back at the prison they had seemed to enter a place where her touch, her flirting, was something he welcomed. Now, so much had happened and they were both different, changed. Her mind drifted to their reunion in the woods. The way he had ran to embrace her, his relief evident in the way he had clung to her, freely touching her on basic instinct. She had never felt so – _loved_.

Her decision made, she raised her hand and threaded her fingers in his hair. He immediately leaned into her touch, a soft whimper leaving his mouth. The sound unleashed her own tears and she rested her forehead against his temple. She lost track of how long they sat like that, quiet and leaning against one another, mourning the young girl they had loved, but yet grateful that they still had one another.

It was finally Carol who broke the silence, her fingers still tangled in the strands of his hair. "You need a haircut,"she murmured.

Daryl snorted and pulled back, his eyes flicking to hers, a hint of amusement in their depths.

"Come on," he mumbled, "It ain't that bad, have y'seen Rick's beard?"

Carol barked out a laugh and covered her mouth with her free hand. His lips twitched and for the first time in a long while, she felt a bit better. There was still a lot of emotional baggage she needed to figure out, feelings she needed to thoroughly process but she could finally see a little light at the end of the tunnel and for now that was good enough.

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><p><strong>For now this is a one-shot, but if there is interest I would love to continue. I'm interested in writing Daryl and Carol's journey in coming together!<strong>

**I'd love to know what people thought, let me know!**


	2. A Time to Laugh

_**Thank you so much for reading and to those who left reviews, you are all so lovely! I will do my best to reply tomorrow to those I can. My muse wanted to write more Daryl and Carol so here I am with a second part. I should wait to edit again tomorrow but I just can't wait to post. This is something I know we will never see on the show but that it what fanfiction is for, right?! I hope this isn't ooc.**_

_**Again, I own nothing related to The Walking Dead. **_

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><p><em><strong>A Time to Laugh<strong>_

She pushed the shirt under the water, scrubbing and twisting it, attempting to rid the garment of any traces of laundry soap that still lingered.

The group had ended up staying at the resort for three more days, resting and mourning. Daryl and Rick had made amends, but an underlying tension still remained and Carol felt somewhat responsible for it. Once they made their leave, they decided to travel on back roads after finding the main roads too congested to navigate. They had just made it to the border of North Carolina when the truck had gotten, not one, but two flat tires. They had all piled in the van but only made it a couple of miles before they were out of gas. They then walked across the border and had found a small hunting shack where they were now staying for the night. Surprisingly the shack had been stocked with laundry detergent and a washing tub. Tired of feeling useless, Carol had decided to do some laundry while some of the others were out on a run to a nearby village and Daryl was out looking for food in the woods.

The water was cool against her skin as she dipped another shirt below the surface. It was an unseasonably warm day and she was enjoying the sunshine and the monotonous of the chore.

"Want some help?" Carol turned, surprised to see Maggie.

"Yeah, sure."

"How are ya?" Maggie asked quietly, sitting and taking the shirt she handed her.

"Better. I'm healing."

"Good. I'm glad."

"How are you?" Carol asked. The poor thing had hardly spoken or eaten since Beth's death.

Maggie sighed, "These last few days have been a blur." She laid the shirt down on the rocks and stared out over the pond. "I should have been there," her voice cracked, "I was so focused on Glenn and then Eugene -" she trailed off

"You couldn't have known."

"She was my sister," she cried. She turned to Carol, "How can I – how can I go on?"

"You just – do – ," she thought back to Sophia, how losing her baby had made her want to curl in a ball and disappear from the world, but she had known Sophia wouldn't have wanted that, "Beth would want you to."

Tears filled Maggie's eyes, "Can you tell me Carol, was she OK? Was she scared there - at the hospital?"

Carol grabbed her hand, squeezing it, thinking back to her last moments with Beth, "She was – she was Beth – bright – hopeful – she saved my life. And she was _so _happy that you were alive, that you and Glenn were well."

A small sob escaped Maggie's mouth.

"Oh sweetie," Carol moved to hug her, wrapping her arms around the woman's small frame. Maggie's head immediately fell on her shoulder.

"It's going to be hard," Carol said, "damn hard. I won't lie to you. After I lost Sophia, I didn't know if I could go on, but I pushed myself. I wanted to live, to survive and to be better, be someone she could be proud of, be the person I should have always been for her. You're strong Maggie, you will get through this, for her and for yourself."

"I feel so lost," she whispered into Carol's neck.

"I know."

The two sat holding each other, Carol running a hand through Maggie's hair doing her best to give her some comfort.

Eventually Maggie pulled back, a small smile on her face, "I better get back before Glenn sends out the National Guard."

Carol softly chuckled, cupping Maggie's cheek.

"Plus," Maggie continued, her gaze drifting over Carol's shoulder, "looks like you have other company."

Carol's brow furrowed and she turned to look where Maggie had indicated, her eyes landing on Daryl standing awkwardly, fidgeting with his crossbow.

"I'll talk to ya later." Maggie leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, "Thank you," she whispered, before standing and heading back to the shack. When she passed Daryl she reached out to squeeze his arm and Carol could see the tension drain from Daryl's shoulders at the words Maggie spoke to him, could see the relief in his eyes.

She turned back to the laundry not wanting to eavesdrop on the much needed moment happening between the two behind her.

It wasn't long and she heard Daryl approach, he set his crossbow down on the rocks and sat beside her, his legs stretched out in front of him, silently looking out over the pond.

"You weren't out long," she said wringing out the shirt she had just rinsed.

"Got a couple rabbits, few squirrels."

Her stomach rumbled at the very notion of having some meat for dinner. She hummed, "Never thought I would be this excited for squirrel," she caught his eye and grinned.

The corner of his mouth lifted, "If y'play your cards right, y'might get a whole squirrel all yourself," His eyes held a spark of mischievousness. It was a look she hadn't seen from him in a long time and her heart soared.

She put her hand on her chest and batted her eyelashes, "All my own? Why Daryl Dixon, you sweet talker."

Daryl snorted in amusement and Carol's smile grew. Sitting here, like this with Daryl, she felt a sense of peace. She knew in this world it could never last but she was going to savour every moment of it when she was able.

"You and Maggie good?" she asked, turning to scrub at a pair of Carl's pants in the washing tub.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

She slide forward to rinse the pants in the pond. Once done, she stood, twisting the fabric in her hands to get rid of the access water. She tightened her grip and winced, her shoulder was seizing up again. She groaned in frustration. The pain had been, thankfully, almost non existent for the past couple of days, but now her damn muscles would occasionally tighten which rendered her shoulder useless.

Daryl was on his feet immediately, "Y'alright? Where's Tara and Rosita? Y'shouldn't be doin' this." He took the pants from her and tossed them down on the rocks.

"I'm fine, it just gets stiff every now and then. It's better if I keep moving – happens less," she said, rubbing the offending shoulder.

Daryl eyed her wearily, "Still," he mumbled, "Y'should be restin'."

"I need to do _something_. I was going stir crazy being cooped up. Plus, Rosita and Tara are out teaching Eugene how to use a gun."

His eyes widened, "Why the hell are they givin' him a gun? Are they tryin' to kill us?"

"Be nice," she scolded, smiling at his alarm. "He wants to learn how to take care of himself. It wasn't that long ago when I didn't know how to shoot a gun either," she reminded him.

"And now you're fuckin' Annie Oakley." Pride was evident in his tone and she relished the praise.

She turned to face him raising her eyebrows, she hadn't figure Daryl as one to be interested in famous gunslingers.

He shrugged his shoulders, "When my ole man wasn't a drunkin' asshole, he was really into that wild west shit."

"You never know," she said, "maybe Eugene's the next Wyatt Earp."

"Pfft," he snorted, rolling his eyes.

She smiled and continued to rub at her shoulder, doing her best to ease the stiff muscles. Her other arm didn't quite have full flexibility yet because of her injuries and she was finding it difficult to massage herself.

Daryl cleared his throat, "Do y'want me to – um – uh -" he gestured his hand to her shoulder, his eyes darting from it and then back to her eyes.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He moved towards her and her pulse picked up pace as he inched closer. He moved behind her and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath attempting to get her racing heart under control. She tensed when his hand gripped her shoulder but instantly relaxed when he began to massage, his other hand rested on her back, drawing soft circles with his thumb. His touch was so gentle that it brought tears to her eyes, she couldn't remember the last time when she had been touched quite like this before. Her mind drifted back to a memory of standing on top of a turned over truck in the prison yard. His touch had surprised her back then, he had always been one to shy away from physical contact, avoiding it at all costs, but his touches seemed to come with more frequency since they had been reunited after Terminus and it was that difference that had her stomach fluttering.

Despite her nerves, his ministrations felt good, they felt _really_ good. Her head lolled forward allowing him better access. He moved in closer, the heat of his body against her back had her feeling light headed. His pressure increased and he hit a particularly tender spot and she couldn't help the groan of pleasure that escaped past her lips.

Daryl's hand froze on her shoulder. She closed her eyes, d_amn it, _she berated herself. She probably just succeeded in scaring him off, but to her surprise, after only a moment of hesitation, his hand continued to move.

"That better?" he asked gruffly, he sounded shaken.

She glanced over her shoulder, meeting his gaze, her pulse racing even more quickly at the intense expression she found there.

"Yes," she breathed, turning around to face him completely. "Thank you."

She watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed and chewed his bottom lip. His eyes flicked down to her lips and her breath hitched. She had thought about kissing Daryl many times, how it would feel, how he would taste, and there were many nights, alone in her prison cell, when she had whispered his name, her fingers working to relieve the tension that had built over time, but she knew she was foolish to entertain ideas of romance, of sexual interest on his part, of _love_, especially in a world like this.

He licked his lips and his chest heaved in and out. Something was different now, she could feel it, and it made her nervous.

A gunshot echoed behind her and she yelped as Daryl's body flew at her tackling her to the ground, his body covering hers completely. The trees rustled and birds squawked as they escaped from the hostile intrusion in the forest. She watched Daryl scan the area, looking for the threat.

"Was that gunfire?" Carol whispered, her breath heavy with adrenaline and concern.

Daryl's eyes darkened and he growled in anger, his eyes narrowing in towards the treeline, "That fuckin' idiot," he snarled.

She tilted her head back to look behind her and inwardly groaned. _Eugene_.

Daryl fumbled around clumsily in his attempt to get off of her, his anger clouding his judgement. It allowed her enough time to stand and grab his arm, preventing him from storming over to the scientist.

"What the hells wrong with you?" he yelled.

Eugene stood awkwardly, holding the gun he had just fired, his eyes wide – almost in shock. "Uh, I seemed to have miscalculated the ratio of aim and speed of flight." Carol winced at the way Eugene flung the gun around while he spoke. "It was my wish to be in good favour once more by bringing back a palatable dinner for everyone to partake in," he finished.

"Put the damn gun down 'fore you get us all killed," Daryl growled.

Eugene paused and stared at the gun like he had forgotten he was even holding it.

"Eugene! What the hell?!" Rosita shouted sprinting towards him from the hunting shack, Tara close behind her. "I told you that you were not ready for bullets yet." She grabbed the gun from his hands and he stuttered out the same explanation that he had just relayed to Daryl. She paid no attention to his excuses, scolding him as she dragged him back towards the shack.

"Sorry 'bout that," Tara called over to them apologetically, "He gets a little too keen sometimes."

Daryl grunted in annoyance, "Jus' keep a damn eye on 'im."

He turned to face Carol once more, shaking his head, "Damn fool, he's goin' draw every walker for miles."

Her brow lifted, "A Wyatt Earp he is not," she mused.

Daryl snorted, his tension ebbing away and they both grinned remembering their earlier conversation

"Y'ok? I fell on y'pretty hard," his eyes examined her for discomfort.

"No harm done," she reassured, offering him a small smile. "I haven't had that much - _action_ in a long time," she teased.

His eyes darted to the ground, a ghost of a smile on his face, his cheeks turning a rosy shade of pink. "Stop," he drawled.

Carol smiled, this was familiar, this was comfortable - her teasing him, him shyly telling her to stop. She loved this about them, loved his timid smile, the way he would get flustered by her flirting. It was fun and it was easy but she couldn't stop thinking about them just momets before, the charged looks, the sexual tension that had her heart pounding and her head swimming. They had lost so much, had had so many close calls, maybe it was time to take a leap, consequences be damned, who knew how much time they had left and if she had learned one thing from everything they had been through, she wanted more. She might not deserve it but god did she want it.

"What if I don't want to stop?" Her tone was serious, her meaning clear.

Daryl's head snapped up, his eyes wide. "Carol-," his voice was gruff with emotion.

She took a deep breath, honesty was key. "I don't want to have any regrets Daryl."

He stared at her, his blue eyes sharp, searching her. They always said eyes were the window to your soul, so she allowed him a complete entrance to hers, standing their naked, vulnerable, baring every emotion.

He took a shaky breath and she could see a physical change take place. His eyes darkened and he stood taller. He shifted forward and her heart fluttered in anticipation. _Was this actually happening?_

She was trapped in his gaze, nothing else existed and she could only hear the hammering of her heart and her laboured breath echoing in her ears and then Daryl was falling.

She gasped as he slid down the rocks and landed with a large splash in the glistening depths of the pond. Within seconds he pushed through the surface of the water, sputtering and spitting, gasping for air.

She immediately knelt down, reaching for him to offer assistance, "Are you alright?" she asked.

He looked completely baffled, his head bobbing just above the surface, strands of his hair plastered to the side of his face. A bubble of laughter rose in her throat, he looked absolutely ridiculous. She couldn't hold it back and burst out laughing. She laughed and laughed, bending over, her hands on her thighs. She laughed until tears streamed down her face and she could hardly catch her breath.

"This isn't funny," he mumbled.

"I – you -," she attempted to speak, but chocked on another round of laughter. She hadn't laughed like this since she had been a teenager and she and her girlfriends had gotten drunk on cheap wine and had teepeed snobby Susie Jenkins house. She had forgotten how wonderful it was to laugh like this, the freedom it offered and so she embraced it, laughing even harder as Daryl cursed when he attempted to climb up the rocks but only succeeded in sliding back into the water.

* * *

><p>She had tried to contain her giggles as she and Daryl walked back to the shack, but Daryl's scowl, along with the squishing sound his shoes made with each step he took, had made it a difficult task.<p>

She had finally cracked when Carl, back from the run, had taken in Daryl's wet attire and asked if he had went for a swim. Daryl had grumbled something incoherent under his breath and had stormed off leaving Carol in another fit of laughter and everyone else looking completely mystified.

Evening had come and Carol hadn't seen any sign of Daryl since his tumble into the pond. She knew now that he and Rick were on watch and she tried not to worry about the distance he had placed between them. She rolled out her bed roll, the others doing the same around her. The hunting shack only had one main room, it was tight, but at least it was warm and dry. She laid down, burrowing her head into the small pillow, her mind in overdrive. Maybe he had been embarrassed about that afternoon and having fallen into the pond during their heated moment or perhaps she had gone too far and he wasn't ready for any romantic entanglements...maybe it was _she_ who he wasn't interested in having a romance with. She sighed, closing her eyes, sleep was going to be difficult to come by.

A hour or two passed, the gentle snores and heavy breaths of those already in slumber resonated around the room. The door creaked open, footsteps and low voices signifying the switch of watch. She felt movement beside her and tensed when a body laid next to her. The familiar scent of Daryl filled her senses and caused her stomach to flip. She was on her side, her back to him and she internally debated whether to acknowledge his presence while he shifted around trying to get comfortable. _He was here_ – next to her, which meant he hadn't been scared off completely. She wished she knew how he felt. She could read him like a book on so many things, but on this, their relationship, he was much more guarded. Yes, he _had _ran to her and embraced her in pure exhilaration when they had reunited and he _had_ been much more open since her return, but was he ready for the next step? Was she? She didn't want to turn the connection they shared into something awkward, something painful, but she knew that casual flirting and stolen glances were no longer enough. She needed to make sure they were alright though or she wouldn't get any sleep whatsoever. She mentally kicked herself, Good god Carol just say _something, _she screamed.

"Next time someone gets wet, it had better be me," her voice was low, just above a whisper, foreign to her own ears. She squeezed her eyes closed tighter, mortified. _What the hell had that been? _ The heat of embarrassment consumed her. Her foolish words would have Daryl running for the hills for sure.

The silence was deafening. She needed to fix this error in judgement, apologize. She opened her mouth to speak but jolted, her mouth snapping closed, when his hand gripped her waist, his very touch burning through to her skin.

His breath was hot on her ear, "Don't make promises y'can't keep," he drawled, sending a shiver down her spine and igniting a fire in the pit of her stomach. Change was coming and it had Carol's blood pumping.

* * *

><p><strong>I love sexual tension between two characters I desperately want to hook up. I so hope we get more of it between Caryl in 5B!<strong>

**Thanks for reading. Leave a review if you feel so inclined. I do so love to hear what people thought!**


	3. A Time to Weep

**Thank you so much for all the kind words and to all those that read this story so far. **

**To the "guest" that left a review, I am going to treat you like a person and not a troll...I apologize that you came into this story thinking that it was something it was not and I am sorry that you lost a character you love. Yes, Caryl is where my heart stands but I don't hate Beth and am not dancing on her grave. I was quite saddened by her death and I do believe that Daryl will have quite a hard time with it. I just don't think Daryl was "in love" with her. To each their own though! This story is very much a Caryl story and I will continue to write it. Thanks for the review though!**

**I want to say a BIG thank you to my friend Jen for offering to beta this for me. It was so much appreciated and helped me greatly!**

**I don't read spoilers for TWD but I heard something through the grapevine which I have included in this part of my story, so if you are trying to avoid spoilers 100%, you've been warned! **

**I still own nothing related to The Walking Dead, this is just for fun.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong><em>A Time to Weep<em>**

The house was eerily quiet, she gripped her knife tighter, ready to strike if need be. Daryl was a head of her, his bow at the ready, his eyes constantly scanning for any threats.

They had been traveling for two, maybe three weeks now. It had been a long and exhausting journey and everyone was on edge. There had had barely anytime to stop and rest. It reminded her of the days before they found the prison, always on the move, staying no more than one night in one location, supplies low. They were all miserable, constantly sniping at one another. It was essential that they found a place to set up for a few days, a home base to use to regain their strength and clear their heads, a place to just be still.

They had made it to Richmond but Noah's family were no longer there. The town had been in ruins and the boy had been beside himself with grief, the loss of Beth and the guilt he suffered over that had broken him. It had been heartbreaking to watch and had helped stir the sorrow and pain in her own heart once again. Living on the road did not afford you the time to wallow in despair though, so she had pushed those feelings down and drudged onward.

They decided to continue towards Washington since they were so close, see if it would afford them any sort of protection. They chill that clung in the air was a stark reminder that winter was on the horizon and they all knew that a winter in Virginia would be a stark contrast to the winters they had faced in Georgia. It would be a new danger that they were unequivocally unprepared for, another reason why shelter, a place to settle, was so important.

It was when they had seemed at their most desperate that a beacon of hope appeared. They had stumbled, literally, onto a gated community that had been hidden back in the forest. It looked to be completely untouched, a miracle in these times. A wooden wall surrounded the homes inside, strong enough to keep out walkers. The group had decided to split up to search for signs of anyone alive – or dead, that may lurk inside.

That is how she found herself with Daryl, searching one of the many homes that lined the streets in the small community. He shifted his bow, aiming it towards the entryway into a small kitchen. His grip tightened on the weapon causing the muscles in his bicep to flex. Carol swallowed and averted her eyes, attempting to ignore the thrill of want that burned in the pit of her stomach. She shook her head. Now was definitely _not_ the time.

This was the first chance that Daryl and she had been alone since Daryl had taken that tumble into the pond, since they had been so close to crossing that line into something deeper, something more than friendship. They had shared many heated glances during these last couple of weeks, but the opportunity to sort out anything else had not presented itself and it was driving her to the brink of distraction and distraction was not something she could afford, not in this world.

They cleared the kitchen and Daryl visibly relaxed, the tension releasing from his shoulders. He turned to face her, "Look for food, anything that we can use."

She nodded, opening the cupboard in front of her. She closed her eyes in elation. _Food_. Four cans of soup, two cans of beans, a bag of pasta and spaghetti sauce on the bottom and middle shelves. Her mouth watered involuntarily thinking of the savoury taste of tomato sauce. She hadn't had spaghetti in so long; it had been one of her favourite meals before the turn. She quickly pulled the food from the shelf, putting it in her bag.

Beside her Daryl rummaged through the drawers, pulling out knives, matches, flashlights, batteries and any other item that could be of use to them. She caught a glimpse of another can on the top shelf of the cupboard she had just looted and stood on her toes to get a better look. A delighted laugh bubbled up her chest.

Daryl paused and looked at her, his eyebrow raised.

"Veggies!" She grinned.

He snorted, the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement before going back to his own scavenging.

She lifted her arm, her entire body stretching to reach the cans. Her fingers brushed against one, she almost had it, just a little more. She pushed herself further and a jolt of pain tore through her shoulder taking her by surprise. She cried out and fell back to her feet.

"Christ," Daryl exclaimed, he moved beside her, reaching for the can, "Let me get the high ones."

The tone of his voice, like he was reprimanding a child, turned her mood in an instant. The constant moving from place to place, the limitations her injuries still caused her, everyone treating her like an invalid, every frustration that had built up over the last few weeks finally came to a head and she exploded.

"It's a fucking can of peas Daryl. I can do it," she pushed his arm away.

He put his hands up in surrender. "Suit yourself," he drawled.

She reached for the can, "I wish everyone would stop treating me like I was a piece of damn glass," she muttered, standing taller, her fingers once again grazing the can. She closed her eyes briefly, ignoring the discomfort in her shoulder. If she couldn't reach a can of peas, how could she handle herself in a herd of walkers? "It is driving me fucking insane."

Her fingers wrapped around the can and her heart soared in satisfaction. She went to pull it off the shelf but instead pushed it back further, completely out of her reach. "_Shit_," she growled in frustration.

Daryl chuckled beside her and her head snapped in his direction, "You sure as hell better not be laughing right now."

His fingers pulled at his goatee, as he attempted to conceal his grin. "Don't think I've ever heard y'cuss this much in one sentence b'fore."

She huffed in annoyance, "You're an asshole sometimes."

A bark of laughter burst from Daryl. It was so sudden and unexpected, it surprised her. It was a sound she hadn't heard in quite awhile and her exasperation melted away.

His head was bowed looking at the ground, his grin still visible behind the veil of hair that hung in front of his face, "It was cute, s'all," he mumbled.

Carol's stomach flipped and her cheeks burned. _Cute?_ She leaned against the counter, avoiding looking at him, inhaling and exhaling slowly attempting to calm herself. The silence stretched. She needed to say _something_. "Sorry," she muttered, "I'm just - frustrated with my injuries and I definitely did not miss this constant moving around."

"Hey," Daryl said, his tone firm yet soft. Her eyes returned to his, "I'm not tryin' to treat y'like a piece of glass. I just-" he paused and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He seemed to be struggling to find the right words. "You don't have to do things alone – I'm here," he finished quietly, shaking his head, frustrated with her or himself, she couldn't quite tell.

"Help me get the peas?" she asked. It was a peace offering, another apology. She hadn't meant to take out her aggravation on him and she certainly wasn't angry with him. She was just so damn tired.

The corner of his mouth lifted and he moved in behind her. Before she could side step out of his way, he was pressing against her back, his arm reaching over her head. She stood frozen, the feeling of his body flush with hers only served to remind her of the _other_ frustration she had been facing. Her skin burned where he touched her, the feel of him stretched over her all taut and strong had every cell in her body coming to life. Heat rose to her face and her hands gripped the edge of the counter, she was certain Daryl could hear the pounding of her heart.

He grunted, unable to reach one of the cans, and pushed his body even closer to hers. She closed her eyes, attempting to ward off the desire that ran rampant through her. Was he even aware of what he was doing?

He placed the cans on the counter in an agonizingly slow manner before finally pulling back. She didn't look at him right away, afraid that her face would betray her yearning.

"I'm frustrated too," he said, his drawl quiet and sincere.

She lifted her head, swallowing nervously before making eye contact with him.

"Maybe this is a place we can settle," he continued.

Her eyebrow arched in surprise, "You hated being cooped up in the prison."

"Had its 'vantages – it's good to have a place to call home." His eyes drifted to the ground and his hand fidgeted with the strap of his bow, "Home is a good place for new beginnin's."

"Yeah," she whispered. She desperately wanted a fresh start, a clean slate, to forget the memories that haunted her. That was easier said than done unfortunately.

Daryl found her gaze again. There was something in his eyes that had her heart rate increasing once more, "There's a lot of things I want to start," he said, a slight quiver in his voice.

Her breath hitched and her mouth went dry. She was at a loss of what to say. The look they shared was reminiscent of the one they shared that day by the pond, heated and full of longing, and it made her nervous.

"Me too," she breathed, finally finding her voice.

Daryl reached out towards her and she held her breath as his fingers tentatively grazed her cheek before cupping her face with his hand. She leaned into his caress, closing her eyes, relishing the feel of his touch.

The sound of gunfire and shouting made them both jump. They shared a look of startled panic before racing to the front of the house, their weapons drawn.

Daryl glanced out the window, "Shit!" He moved passed her, headed to the door, "We got big trouble."

She looked out the window herself, her heart plummeting. It looked to be about twenty walkers cornering Rick, Tyreese, and Noah and more were advancing towards the men, drawn by the gun shots and the yelling.

Carol ran out the door after Daryl, her rifle aimed ready to fire.

"Oh God," she breathed when they made it outside. Walkers were coming from every direction; there had to be at least one hundred making their way towards Rick and the others about 25-30 yards up the street.

Daryl glanced over at her, his eyes wide. She could tell that he too had no clue where to even begin to help, no idea how to aid in saving their friends. If they went to assist the men in hand to hand combat, they were at a large risk of boxing themselves in as well, but if they fired their own guns, they could possibly draw some of the walkers away and give the guys a chance to fight out of the trap they had found themselves in.

Carol handed her rifle to Daryl, "Use the guns, distract them, take out as many as we can?"

He nodded, taking her rifle. She pulled out her revolver from her pants. They jogged to the the corner of the house and together they began to shoot.

The aim and range of her revolver was not ideal but she managed to take out a few of the closer walkers. Rick, Tyreese and Noah were in an intense battle. They had formed a circle, back to back, driving their machetes and knifes into the skulls of the dead, again and again.

"I gotta move in closer," Daryl muttered, edging forward.

Carol moved with him, "No!" He stopped and swung his arm out in front of her, "Go to the gate," his eyes pleaded.

She shook her head, "I'm not leaving - " the '_you_' hung in the air between them.

He gripped her elbow, "We're gonna need to get outta here fast. Someone needs t'open the gate so it's ready."

She growled in frustration, knowing he was right and knowing that they had no time to discuss it further. He would be more help than she against the herd Rick and the others faced.

"Daryl," she breathed, trying to project all she felt into his name. There was so much still unsaid between them and here they faced yet another battle, the danger insurmountable, no guarantees that everyone - that Daryl - would make it out safe.

He squeezed her arm and handed her back the rifle, "I'll be right b'hind you," he assured her. He gave her a little push, "Go."

She held his gaze for a beat more before turning and running towards the gate.

It had been a while since she had really ran, not at all since being hit by that car and it didn't take long for her muscles to protest. Three walkers stumbled towards her from her right, sensing a fresh meal. She shot two of them in the head and aimed at the third, she pulled the trigger and nothing. She huffed in annoyance. She was out of bullets. Holstering the gun, she grabbed a hold of her knife. The last walker reached for her, desperate for a taste of her flesh. She shoved it away causing it to fall to the ground. She stepped on its flailing arm, pinning it and in one smooth motion pulled her knife out of her sheath and stabbed the walker through its eye, into its brain.

She made it to the gate, out of breath and her heart pounding. The door was large, three times her size at least. The structure that had held promise of sanctuary, of safety, now loomed over her like a trap, a barrier blocking her, and those she cared about, from freedom. She pushed down the lever and pulled with all her strength, pure adrenaline allowing her to open the door on her own.

She was met by the terror stricken faces of Carl, Tara, Eugene and Gabriel.

"Carol, we heard gunshots, what's going on?" Carl moved to push passed her, panicked and ready to fight.

She grabbed his elbow, pulling him back. "Take Judith and Tara and Eugene and go back to that barn we saw about 5 miles up the road." Her voice was firm and commanding, she knew she was in for an argument and there was no time for that.

"I can help, you know I can," his face was set with determination, a coldness there that made her ache for his lost childhood.

"I know, but you need to think about Judith right now. She needs you."

"But my dad -"

"Your dad is fine, he's headed for the gate. He would want you to do what's best for Judith which is taking her to that barn."

She turned to Tara and Eugene, "We'll meet you there. You need to go - now."

Tara nodded and pulled Carl's sleeve, "Carl -"

He growled in frustration but took his sister from her and they headed in the direction of the barn.

Abraham and Rosita were the first ones through the gate followed by Michonne and Sasha, all heavy breaths and horrified expressions. They all knew going back in to assist the others could be deadly, an unwise decision, so they were forced to wait, taking out what walkers they could, knowing the gate would have to be closed before they too were overrun. It seemed like a lifetime to Carol. Daryl and the others should have been there by now. What the hell was going on?

Finally she saw Noah and Maggie running towards them, Rick and Glenn were assisting Tyreese, who appeared hurt but still upright. Close behind them was the one she had been looking for and her heart sparked with relief. Daryl seemed to be in one piece but about fifty walkers still pursued the group, they were not out of the woods yet.

"Close the gate," Daryl yelled, as the group ran through the opening.

Abraham and Michonne pulled the door closed just in time and the air filled with the sound of the dead groaning and pounding on the other side.

Rick and Glenn had helped Tyreese to sit against a tree, and soon a mournful cry ripped from Sasha's mouth. Carol turned to Daryl, her eyes wide, pleading with him to not tell her the words she feared to hear.

Unshed tears shone in Daryl's eyes, "Ty's been bit."

* * *

><p>The barn wasn't much; it was falling apart, weathered by age, but there was an old well out the back and access to water was a top priority at the moment.<p>

Tyreese was lying across a blanket on a bed of hay they had pushed together. Sasha sat beside him, her hand tightly clasped around his. Her head was bowed and Carol could hear the murmur of Tyreese's voice as he quietly spoke to his sister.

The sheen of sweat across his brow and the slight quiver of his body told her that Tyreese was feverish. It wouldn't be much longer now.

She rearranged the medical supplies on the shelf for the fifth time. She was doing her best to not focus on the fact that Tyreese was dying, that another person who was so innately good was being taken from this world.

"Carol," Sasha's voice cracked. She turned, startled, she had not heard the young woman approach.

"Is Tyreese alright?" Panic rose in her chest.

Tears filled Sasha's eyes, "He wants to talk to you."

Carol nodded her head, the action quick and sharp, clearing her throat to halt her own tears. She reached out caressing Sasha's arm before moving to Tyreese.

She approached him slowly. He seemed so small lying there, not at all like the gentle giant she had come to know. He was so still, so pale.

"Ca-Carol," his voice was weak and he erupted into a fit of coughing.

"Shh," Carol hushed him and grabbed a cloth from the water bucket they had found and placed it on his brow. "Save your energy."

"I'm dying Carol," he wheezed, "I need to be able to say my – my peace." He watched her carefully, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. He always amazed her, even at a time like this he was able to tease.

"I wanted to – to thank you," he said, his expression turning solemn.

Her brow furrowed, "Thank me?" Those words were not something she had expected him to say. She had done nothing but cause him sorrow, she had killed the woman he loved.

"If you hadn't found me and the girls when you did-," he closed his eyes, his face pained.

Her stomach dropped. Flashes of Lizzie standing over Mika holding a bloody knife, of her pulling the trigger and Lizzie falling into the bed of yellow flowers assaulted her. She pulled her hand away from Tyreese's forehead, placing the cloth back into the basin. The urge to flee from the room was overwhelming.

He opened his eyes, capturing her gaze, "Judith is alive because of you."

She shook her head, "Judith is alive because of _you_."

She slammed her hand against the wooden pillar that stood beside her, the anger that had been bubbling just below the surface finally breaking free. "This isn't fair," she cried, tears of fury clouding her vision.

"Carol," he reached for her. She avoided looking in his eyes, didn't think she could bear it at the moment. She kept her gaze trained on their joint hands, her hand seemed so small in his.

"I've made peace with it," he was quiet for a beat, "If I'm being honest – I'm a bit relieved."

Her eyes snapped to his, her face scrunched in confusion. He smiled softly at her look, "You and I both know that I am not cut out for this world."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he squeezed her hand and shook his head.

After a minute he shifted back so he was staring at the ceiling. Carol stood there silently watching him, her hand still clasped in his.

"I'm worr – worried about Sasha," he rasped, his tone quiet and his voice strained. "She just lost Bob-,"

"We'll take care of her," she assured him.

"I know."

He fell into another coughing fit. Carol grabbed a glass of water from the small ledge against the wall. She placed her hand on the back of his head, helping him to take a couple small sips. When finished, his head dropped back, exhausted from the small task.

He took a few shaky breaths before he spoke again, "It wasn't fair of me to – to say we should ke-keep it to ourselves – about the girls."

Carol closed her eyes.

"You did right by those girls Carol, don't ever doubt that. It had to be done – it was right" He turned his head to look at her, "I'm sorry I couldn't do it – that it fell – that it fell to you."

Carol swiped the back of her hand across her cheek, wiping away the stray tear that had fallen.

"Talk to someone – ," he continued, "- to - to Daryl. Don't let this consume you."

She swallowed, attempting to control the sob that rose in her throat, she could do nothing but nod her head.

* * *

><p>Tyreese died a couple hours later. Sasha had stayed by his side insisting she be the one to drive the knife through his skull, prevent him from turning into the very thing that had taken him from her. She had left shortly after they had buried him, needing some space. Rick and Michonne had followed her from a distance to keep an eye out for her, far enough away to give her a chance to mourn her brother in private.<p>

Carol was unsure where everyone else was. There had been talk of scouting ahead to see if it was safe to move forward. She worked meticulously packing away the supplies they had used on Tyreese, cleaning up the area so Sasha wouldn't have to deal with seeing it when she returned. She was on auto pilot, just going through the motions, trying not to dwell on the newest tragedy that they faced, numb.

She bent, lifting the water basin that had been used to keep Tyreese as cool and as comfortable as possible in his last moments. It was heavy and she struggled under the weight of it but it was vital that she dump it, she needed to get rid of every painful reminder of Tyreese's death – for Sasha – for the others.

She took a step forward, not seeing the log that laid across the ground and stumbled over it, the bucket slipping from her grasp, one of the sharp edges slicing her hand. She cried out in pain and twisted her hand to see the blood trickle down her arm. She growled in frustration and kicked the basin. Dropping the water was the final straw and the rage she had been suppressing seeped out of her every pore.

She stormed over to the nearest shelf, grabbing items one by one and hurled them across the open space with all the force she could muster, each throw punctuated with a cry of outrage. An old clock, a broken radio, a picture frame - anything she could grab.

A strong hand wrapped around her bicep, stilling her, before she was able to throw the dust covered horse trophy that she held firmly in her hand.

"Carol," he breathed her name and her grip on the trophy immediately loosened, dropping to the ground with a soft thud.

Her knees went weak and she felt lightheaded, her breath came out fast and uneven and she wanted nothing more than to lie down, close her eyes, and forget.

She crumbled to the ground, gasping in the fresh air, hyperventilating. It felt like she couldn't breathe.

Daryl followed her to the ground, rubbing soft circles on her back, "Shh, I'm here," he whispered in her ear, "Jus' breathe. In – and – out."

His voice was soothing and she inhaled and exhaled following his directions until her breathing was once again under control.

He stayed with her, kneeling on the ground behind her, his hand still moving slowly on her back, comforting her. She couldn't help the tears that filled her eyes.

"It isn't fair," she muttered, her voice just above a whisper.

"I know," Daryl answered.

A sob fell from her mouth and she turned her body towards him. Her fists grabbed a hold of his vest and she buried her head into his shoulder, letting out every emotion she had buried deep within her. Her anger, her frustration, her sorrow and her guilt, all of it poured out of her into Daryl's shoulder, sobs ransacking her body.

He held her tightly to him, murmuring words to her every now and then, _'Let it out,' _and _'I'm here,'_ over and over again, his lips brushing across her temple.

She wasn't sure how long they sat like that, her forehead pushed against his neck, her hands still gripping his vest, and his arms wrapped around her.

A dull ache in her hand had her pulling back. She glanced down where her hands rested on his chest and noticed the dry blood covering her arm and staining his vest. She had forgotten that she had sliced her hand when she had dropped the basin.

"I'm sorry," she gasped.

His eyes widened, noticing the gash, "You're bleedin'." He lifted her injured hand, inspecting the cut. "Wait here," he instructed firmly, standing.

She watched as he rummaged around in a few of their bags in the corner of the barn and then he disappeared outside.

He re-appeared a few minutes later, a fresh bucket of water in his hand and makeshift bandages in the other.

He sat on the ground in front of her once more, tenderly working, washing away the filth and grime that surrounded the cut.

She watched in a daze, unable to tear her eyes away from his gentle ministrations nor away from the water that dripped down her arm that was a messy mix of dirt and blood. He carefully wrapped her wound and still she continued to stare, so many emotions battling to take control of her heart. He was being so tender and caring, after all those years with Ed it was a concept that was still so foreign, that someone's touch could be this loving. Ed often told her that she was unlovable and that she destroyed everything she touched, words that had been repeated over and over again that it was impossible not to eventually believe them. Looking back though it was hard to discredit what he had said, the things she loved most she _had_ destroyed...Sophia...the girls-

"Hey," Daryl softly called, pulling her out of her trance. She raised her head and found his gaze. "Don't slip away – talk to me," he pleaded.

Fresh tears sprung to her eyes, Tyreese's words echoed in her mind, '_Talk to someone – talk to Daryl – don't let it consume you_.' Daryl was the exact opposite of everything Ed had been to her. He listened when she spoke, he never belittled her and her opinions...he cared. Her heart pounded and fear engulfed her, finding out what she had done to Lizzie could possibly change how Daryl perceived her, it could possibly drive him away and the thought of losing him was unbearable.

"Carol," he whispered, his eyes glistened, and he looked distressed, worried about her. Looking at him then, her decision was made, he was the one person she _could_ talk to – about anything and what she had experienced with Tyreese and the girls, it was slowly eating her alive. She had to tell him before it killed her.

"Lizzie was sick," her own voice startled her and she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves.

Daryl said nothing, he only squeezed her hand lightly, encouraging her to continue.

"She thought the walkers were still the people they used to be after they turned. She wanted to prove it to Tyreese and I." She paused, taking another shaky breath, "She killed Mika and would have killed Judith as well if Tyreese and I hadn't gotten there in time."

She heard Daryl sharply intake some air, but his face remained unreadable. She rubbed her temple trying to ease the dull thud in her head. It was time – time to release this weight that held her down, time to finally share the untold memory that tore at her heart day by day ever since she held that gun and pulled that trigger, the memory that threatened to drown her.

Daryl watched her, his gaze unwavering, concern written across his features. She desperately wanted to turn away, petrified of what she may see in their depths after she confessed, but he deserved her full attention, _this_ deserved her full attention.

"I killed her," the words fell out, rushed and pained. "I had to. I took her out to a patch of wildflowers and shot her - It destroyed me," she whispered.

A sorrow unlike anything she had ever witness flashed through his eyes, no judgement, no hatred just despair over what she had had to face. He moved forward suddenly, pulling her to him, his arms wrapping around her. "Y'did the right thing – the only thing y'could've," he said, his voice cracking with emotion.

She whimpered softly, returning his hug, relishing the comfort he offered, relief flooding her.

"I should've been there – I would never – I would've made sure you didn't have to do that – you should've never had to do that," he kept muttering into her hair.

She clung to him tighter, silent tears falling down her cheeks. The pain of this life seemed to be never ending, there were never any breaks, never any peace. She was tired of losing people, tired of living her life day by day in constant fear of something happening to the ones she loved. She longed to feel something other than pain and fear and disappointment, even if it was just for a moment.

Daryl nuzzled further into her hair, his lips brushing against her temple and she felt a spark. _Daryl_. Daryl had this ability to make her feel every _good _thing. _No regrets, _her mind screamed.

She drew back from the embrace, not allowing herself to overthink. She cupped Daryl's cheeks with her hands, gazed briefly into his eyes and then pressed her lips to his. His lips were dry and slightly chapped but they were warm and she hummed at the sensation, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

His entire body went rigid and Carol realized her error in judgement. She jerked back horrified and stumbling to her feet, almost tripping once again in her haste to stand up. She must have read him wrong, all the heated looks and all the words spoken between them - he didn't want her. Maybe it was the timing, right now, this entire situation, it was not remotely romantic – it was the worst time imaginable. He probably thought she had gone insane. What had she been thinking? - So stupid.

She shook her head, backing away from him, not daring to make eye contact, "Oh God," she moaned, "I'm so sorry."

She gasped in surprise when Daryl appeared standing in front of her. His calloused hands rested on her cheeks and he firmly tilted her head so her gaze was forced to meet his. She hadn't even realized he had gotten to his feet as well. His eyes were dark and full of pure want that it had her pulse racing out of control. For one brief moment Daryl looked unsure and then it was gone and his head descended towards her.

The angle was wrong and their noses collided. A small, nervous giggle sounded from her lips, but it quickly turned into a soft sigh when his lips finally landed on hers. They lingered together exchanging kisses that were soft and slow, both of them were a little hesitant and insecure, but the light touches still made her heart stutter and caused a warmth to spread in her belly, a feeling she hadn't experienced in years. Daryl's hands dropped to her waist, wrapping around her until they rested on the small of her back. He pulled her closer, their bodies flush, the rhythm of his heart matching her own, fast and erratic. It was beautiful and perfect and it had her craving more.

Her tongue slid along his upper lip seeking entrance. Daryl growled from deep within his throat, the sound more erotic than anything she had ever heard before. He opened his mouth and their tongues met in a surge of passion, the kiss deepening. It was a far cry from the gentle exploring they had previously been engaged in. It was raw and it was desperate and it had been a long time coming.

The sound of voices outside the barn had her regretfully pulling back. Daryl softly whimpered in protest.

"Someone's coming," she whispered, her breath heavy.

His eyes widened and he backed away from her, staggering slightly on his feet. The loss of his touch was disappointing.

The barn door swung open and Tara and Glenn entered, both carrying an arm full of wood.

"Hey, what are you two up to?" Tara asked.

"Nothin'," Daryl barked, roughly grabbing the pile from Tara's arms and putting it on the ground, surprising her with his abruptness.

"Woah there tiger, no need to snap. Was just wondering if we could get a hand carrying all this wood in before it rains."

"Yeah, definitely," Carol said, doing her best to sound normal.

The young woman sent her a smile as Glenn watched Daryl, a strange expression on his face.

"Did you hurt your hand?" Tara asked, noticing the bandaged appendage, concern evident in her eyes.

"Just a little cut, I'm fine," she reassured.

"I'll get the wood." Daryl said, "You rest your hand." He avoided looking at her altogether and was out the door before she could protest.

She sighed, closing her eyes. Realization over what she and Daryl had just done began to set in. Both of them had not had the most successful relationships in the past. Before the turn, love for them had been full of nothing but pain and disenchantment. The friendship they had formed now, at the end of the world, was something she cherished and desperately needed. Adding romance into the mix was a surefire way to complicate things even more than what they already were and Daryl didn't do complicated. Her thumb grazed over her lips. That kiss they had just shared had pushed them into uncharted territory, it was new and different, and there was no turning back. Their relationship was forever changed and it scared the hell out of her.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading! I would love to know your thoughts. Do you think Daryl (or maybe Carol) will hide away after finally sharing a kiss?<strong>

**The Walking Dead returns Sunday! Finally! Here's hoping for some awesome Caryl moments in this second half!**


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